Knight In Not So Shining Armor
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: Miles has had a really bad day and he and Phoenix get into a bitter fight when he gets home. Miles wonders what Phoenix sees in him but Phoenix will convince him that it doesn't matter if he isn't perfect--he loves him as he is. T, PxE
1. Miles' Bad Day

_Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Detective Gumshoe, Adrian Andrews and Franziska von Karma belong to CAPCOM. Chief Spencer, Samantha Parris, Marlis Kross and the plot are my creations. :)_

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Miles has had a really bad day and he's in a very ugly mood when he gets home. After he and Phoenix get into a bitter fight, he's feeling terribly depressed and miserable as he retreats to the library, wondering exactly what it is that Phoenix sees in him. Phoenix will gently convince him that it doesn't matter if Miles isn't a 'knight in shining armor'-he loves him as he is._

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A fluffy, humorous, semi-serious piece that is exaggerated for humorous purposes. :) (Revised Version)

I'm sure we can all sympathize with Miles and his bad day since we've all had days like that at one point or another and it can be enough to drive a person to distraction! I don't see Miles being a particularly patient person and it wouldn't take a lot to make him lose his cool, especially if the accumulated disasters keep piling up. Thankfully, our loved ones are very forgiving. :)

Thanks to all of my readers for your reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting! I really appreciate it very much and I hope that you will continue to enjoy my stories!

Thank you to Midnight-hunter, my beta, for her enthusiastic support and critiquing! :) I appreciate it a bunch! :)

Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for his unfailing love, support, nagging (when necessary) and for helping me to stay grounded during the writing process so I don't end up tearing my hair out. Love you, babe!

I hope you enjoy it and, as always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed! :)

Rated T, Humor/Romance, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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As I sat at my desk that fateful Thursday, I had every reason to expect that the day would flow smoothly, that I would sail through the day relatively unscathed by the various and sundry disasters of daily living and end the day much as it had started. Quietly.

The previous two weeks had been relatively quiet ones and, as I settled in for another day and pulled a file from the shelf behind me, a wide smile on my face and looking forward to the evening's festivities with Phoenix, I had every reason to expect that it would prove to be another quiet week.

I should have known better than to assume.

The volley that began the disintegration of my perfectly good day was the soft, musical chiming of the telephone on my desk. I looked up, with some surprise, to see the red light softly blinking on and off, indicating an incoming call.

_Who could that be?_ I wondered as I pressed the red button and the crisp, efficient voice of one of my secretaries, Ms. Marlis Kross, came confidently over the line. _I'm not expecting any calls today that I know of. _A slight smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. _Maybe it's a surprise call from Phoenix..._

"Yes?"

"Mr. Edgeworth? Chief Spencer is on line three."

"Is he?" I replied with surprise, my fingers reaching up to brush past my lips. "What does he want?"

"He said something about wanting to talk to you about the case going to trial that you're prosecuting in two days. Something's come up and he says he really needs to talk to you right away."

My eyebrow raised as I reached over to pick up the receiver, resisting the urge to sigh. It wouldn't be seemly, after all, to yawn in the man's ear.

"Put him through, Ms. Kross, " I said crisply, my voice betraying no emotion although, I had to admit, my curiosity was indeed piqued as to the reason for the call.

"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth."

_What on earth does he want to talk to me about?_ I thought with some chagrin, tapping my fingers impatiently on the top of my desk as I waited for Ms. Kross to transfer the call._ I gave him all the files pertaining to the case the other day which should have been clear enough. What could he possibly want or need to talk to me about?  
_  
"Prosecutor Edgeworth?" The voice that came over the line sounded strained and very worried.

"Yes, this is Miles Edgeworth," I replied, trying to keep a slight note of irritation out of my voice. "What can I do for you, Chief Spencer?" Normally, I wouldn't have even bothered to continue the conversation past this point but the man sounded genuinely upset. "My secretary said that you wanted to speak to me right away."

"That's... that's right..." he began, his voice cracking with nervousness. I could well imagine him pacing the floor if the agitation in his voice was any indication.

"What seems to be the problem?"

He didn't speak for some time and, when he finally did, his voice was shaking with fear. I rubbed my eyes tiredly before I closed them and counted to ten, wishing that the good Chief would just get to the point. I had a busy day ahead of me and I didn't have any time to waste on word games with the Chief of Police.

"I...I don't know quite... _how_... to tell you this, Prosecutor Edgeworth, but..."

"For God's sake, Chief Spencer, just spit it out!" I snapped, my annoyance level rising with each passing moment. "As _you_ know, _I _am a very busy man and _my_ time is valuable to _me_. I _don't_ have time to waste it on a blithering idiot who can't string two words properly together!" I could imagine his face going white as a sheet at this point. There was, after all, at least _one_ advantage to being known as the Demon Prosecutor. "Now, either tell me what's wrong or get off the phone!"

"I... we... well, that is to say... uhhh... Detective Gumshoe..."

I sighed inwardly. _I might have known._

"What did the good Detective do?" I asked, trying to keep my voice tone to a reasonable level.

"Well... he... he... _lost_... one of the files..."

I sat up straight in my chair, my hand clutching the receiver so hard my knuckles were turning white. "He _WHAT_?!"

I could all but hear him gulp. "He.. he... lost one... one of the files on the way over here yesterday... so... so... if you... could... resend it we... we... would... appreciate it, Prosecutor Edgeworth..."

I counted to forty before I answered and, when I did, I didn't bother to hide the _very_ real rage I was feeling.

"I _will _resend it," I grated angrily, my free hand clenching into a fist at my side, "to _you_ personally, Chief Spencer. And _you_ can tell _him_ from _me _that _he _can expect another salary cut for _his_ stupidity!"

"Yes, Prosecutor Edgeworth," he squeaked. "Th-thank you, Prosecutor Edgeworth!"

"You can expect the new file via fax at three this afternoon. And if you lose that one, there will be hell to pay! Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear," Chief Spencer said nervously. "And... Detective Gumshoe will be told of his latest paycut as soon as he comes back."

"See that he does, Chief Spencer," I replied frostily, forcing myself to calm down. "I trust that _you_ will not need to contact _me_ again today on this matter?" A good veiled threat goes a long way, I've found.

"No, Prosecutor Edgeworth, I... I will not."

"See to it. Good day, Chief Spencer."

"G-good day, Prosecutor Edgeworth..."

I practically slammed down the phone after I heard the dial tone in my ear, my hands shaking with suppressed rage. I couldn't believe that idiot had lost the file! _How_ in the world could he have lost it?!  
_  
This is Detective Gumshoe we're talking about here. He could get lost in a snowstorm outside of his apartment so it really shouldn't have come as such a surprise._

Though I was still angry and upset over Gumshoe's losing of the file I had entrusted to his care, I couldn't argue with that last statement and I had to chuckle over the absurdity of it all. A few moments later, I sat back down in my chair, picked up the file I had been working on and proceeded to go back to work.

_That soft chiming again..._

_What now?_ I thought with some irritation, feeling my temper slowly beginning to rise as I picked up the receiver. "Yes, Ms. Kross?"

"Mr. Edgeworth? Franziska von Karma is on line two. Something about wanting to talk with you about the case pending that the Chief of Police wants to talk to you about."

_Good timing, dear sister..._ I muttered inwardly but merely grunted, "Put her through."

"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth."

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Franziska?"

"Where is that file, Miles Edgeworth?!" Franziska practically shouted into the phone and I had to hold the receiver away from my ear as she delivered a blistering verbal assault in German before switching over to English. "You foolishly foolish fool! You know I need that file for the trial and you're taking your foolishly foolish time getting it to me!"

I could hear an ominous cracking on the other end when she stopped to take a breath and I knew that she was brandishing her whip; I could all but see her fingers tightening around it.

"_That_, my dear sister,"I said in a bored tone, letting a slight edge come into my voice, "is Detective Gumshoe's fault, not _mine_._ He_ lost the file I gave him yesterday and I only found out about it when the Chief of Police called half an hour ago and asked if I could resend it since the good detective had lost it."

"_WHAT_?!" I could hear her cracking her whip in agitation, her voice rising in anger and indignation. "Scruffy... _LOST._.. it?! That foolishly foolish fool _LOST_ it?! I'll deal with him when I see him again! I'll make him wish he'd never been born when I'm through with him! That foolishly foolish-" She went on in that vein for some time, well seasoned with strong words intermittently in both German _and_ English.

I hated to say it but I did feel sorry for Detective Gumshoe. Just a little.

"You do that, dear sister," I replied nonchalantly, breaking into her tirade, "and, since I have a busy day ahead of me, I need to cut our conversation short. I'll talk to you later. Give my best to Adrian. Auf Wiedersehen."

I hung up before she could say another word, letting out a deep breath while I leaned back in my chair. Even though Franziska's anger had been directed mostly at Detective Gumshoe once I had informed her of the good detective's gaffe, I couldn't help feeling that I, myself, had narrowly escaped being eaten alive.

_If that phone doesn't ring again for the rest of the day, I'll be a_ very _happy man!_  
_  
Soft, musical chiming..._

I looked at the phone as if it were a poisonous viper.

_Oh, no..._

I reluctantly reached out and picked up the receiver. "Yes?"

"Mr. Edgeworth? Maya Fey is on line four. Something about Nick's birthday gift that she wants you to get back to her on, preferably today."

I groaned in frustration before I told Ms. Kross to put her on. Knowing Ms. Fey as I did, I knew that she would keep calling if I didn't talk to her. As if I had all the time in the world to drop what I was doing in order to take her call.

"Yes, Ms. Fey?" I rubbed my eyes tiredly and tried not to grit my teeth or let the frustration I felt to creep into my tone although I was sorely tempted to. "What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya Fey's loud and piercing voice came across the line and I had to once again hold the phone away from my ear or risk being permanently deafened. "Have you picked up Nick's birthday gift yet?!"

I counted to fifty. Twice.

"_No_, Ms. Fey, I have_ not_," I replied crossly, my skin flushing a bright red as my temper rose steadily. "I have a lot of work to do today and I'm being constantly interrupted!" I could hear the anger sliding into my voice but, at this point, I didn't care. "I _will_ pick it up after work today, I promise! Now please let me get back to work!"

She sounded disgusted with my outburst. "Geez, Mr. Edgeworth, you don't have to be such a grouch about--"

I slammed down the phone, cutting her off in mid-sentence, struggling to gain control over my tattered temper before I lost control of it. Of all days, _what_ was so special about today that everyone in the entire world felt the need to call me at work? Last week was so quiet...

_Soft, musical chiming..._

_Arrrgh!_

I grabbed the receiver, yanked it up to my ear and shouted, "**WHAT**?!"

_Nice phone manners there, Miles._

Ms. Kross seemed unaffected by my rude answering of the phone which, I will admit, did nettle me just a little. It would, in a perverse way, have made me happy if I'd heard annoyance in her voice.

_That woman _can't_ be human! _

"Mr. Edgeworth? Detective Gumshoe is on line one. Something about wanting to discuss his latest salary cut or something. It was kind of hard to tell with him carrying on like that. He'd like you to call him back at your earliest convenience."

"Put. Him. On..." I hissed through clenched teeth, counting to sixty.

"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth."

"Yes?" The word dripped with venom.

"Mr. Edgeworth, you _gotta_ help me! I _can't_ get another paycut this month!" Detective Gumshoe's voice was desperate and I could hear someone yelling at him in both German _and_ English dimly in the background, my lips curving into a savage smile when I realized that Franziska had caught up with him. I couldn't help but feel meanly glad about it.

_Good for you, Franziska..._

"_You_ lost a _very_ important file, Detective Gumshoe," I said icily, my voice dangerously quiet, "and, for that, you deserve _three_ paycuts! Be thankful that I only gave you_ one_!"

"But... but... Mr. Edgeworth!" he wailed, his voice rising with each syllable. I could hear banging and scraping noises with intermittent whip cracks, Franziska's angry voice yelling "_Dumkopf_!" and "_Schewinhund_!"-among other things-in the brief moments of silence in between. "I _can't_ get another... **OW**!!! **OW**!!! **OWWWWWW**!!! Call her off, Sir! **PLEASE, CALL HER OFF**!!!"

I smiled grimly as I heard the ruckus on the other end. Franziska was really letting him have it. "I doubt I could even if I tried, Detective Gumshoe, so I will leave you to your punishment. Let that be a lesson to you and the next time I entrust something to you, _DON'T LOSE IT_!!!!"

"But, Sir– **OW**!!!!"

"Goodbye, Detective." I was enjoying this. "**DON'T** call me or I will _personally_ cut your pay for the next six months if you bother me again at any time during the next twenty-four hours!"

"**OWWWW**!" was all I heard before I slammed the phone down once again, my palms sweating, my breath heaving as I tried to calm down but it was proving to be a nearly impossible task.

_Soft, musical chiming..._

**ENOUGH**!!!!

I grabbed the receiver and shouted into it, "**IF YOU BOTHER ME ONE MORE TIME WITH ONE MORE PHONE CALL, YOU CAN LOOK FOR ANOTHER JOB!! I AM TRYING TO WORK AND I CAN'T GET ANYTHING DONE WITH THESE CONSTANT INTERRUPTIONS!! DO I MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR, MS. KROSS?!**" before slamming it back down into the cradle so hard it rattled.

I groaned and let my head fall onto my folded arms that lay crossed on top of my desk. It was quickly turning out to be one of _those _days and the timing couldn't have possibly been worse. I'd been going hard since I had arrived at my office early this morning and I had been running nonstop since then with this, that and the other thing, fielding and returning phone calls and numerous trips to the Law Library downtown to check on various files there to research certain ordinances that I needed for the upcoming trial.

After half an hour, I slowly sat up and lifted my head, casting suspicious and wary glances around the room, particularly on the telephone itself. It was so quiet that I could have heard a pin drop. I reveled in the beautiful silence, knowing that it probably wouldn't last long but did allow myself the small hope that it would last until I had a chance to repair my frazzled nerves.

I swore, raking my fingers nervously through my grey hair, that if I had _one_ more phone call with something _else_ going wrong, I was going to scream.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Samantha Parris, my paralegal, knocked discreetly and, hearing no response-I was amazed that she didn't hear me gnashing my teeth-she poked her head through the open door. "The Chief Prosecutor is on your private line. He says he..."

I looked at her blankly at first, as if I couldn't quite comprehend what she was saying. Once I understood that she was in _my_ office and talking to _me_, my hands knotted into fists, my pale skin flushing a bright red as I opened my mouth...

I'm surprised that she didn't have heart failure on the spot as my piercing scream brought _everyone_ on the floor on the run to my office where they had the dubious pleasure-if you want to call it that-of seeing me banging my head against my desk.


	2. Phoenix's Bad Day

_A/N: Phoenix Wright, Pesu and Miles Edgeworth do not belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine. :)_  
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_Miles has had a bad day at work and he comes home in a foul mood, getting into a fight with Phoenix and storming off afterward. In his wake, Phoenix is left to wonder exactly what happened and what he can do to fix it._  
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Part 2! :) Phoenix is left reeling after he and Miles have a fight, poor guy, and now he's left to wonder what happened, exactly, and how he's going to fix it. He's pretty hurt by Miles' cutting words but he knows that he doesn't mean them; its just the anger talking and, once Miles calms down, everything will be all right.  
Pesu makes an appearance here! :) I've made him a Fox Terrier/Pomeranian/Chihuahua cross-no one really knows exactly what breed of dog he is, which leaves it wide open for interpretation-modeled on my late family dog, Sandy, herself a Fox Terrier/Pomeranian/Chihuahua cross who died back home in Canada in February of 2007 at the age of 16. I sure miss her some days.  
Information on the nine circles of Hell in "The Divine Comedy" by Dante was obtained from Wikipedia.

_Thank you, as always, to my readers who frequently read-and even re-read-my stories and those who have commented, _ read, reviewed, favourited/story alerted my stories and thanks also to those who have author alerted/favourite authored, as well! I appreciate it very much! I am glad that you are enjoying my stories and I hope that you will continue to enjoy them in the future! :)

**Thank you **to my beta, Midnight-hunter, for all your comments and insights! I really appreciate it! :)

**Special thanks **to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his encouragement, love, concern and for reigniting the fire within me to write! Love you, honey, and thanks!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :) Any and all comments are warmly appreciated and very gratefully welcomed!

Rated Teen, humour/romance, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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I was humming a happy tune as I went about setting the table for dinner that evening when I heard Miles' car pulling into the driveway. I turned to look out the window, a happy smile spreading across my face in eager anticipation of his return that quickly faded when I caught a glimpse of his strained and unhappy face as he stalked down the sidewalk leading to the front door.

_Oh, dear..._ I sighed as I slowly put down the plate on the table, my fingers starting to tremble slightly as I heard the angry squeal of the metal gate protesting as he yanked it open, stalked through and slammed it shut behind him. _It was such a good day until now._ I looked back out the window and watched him stalk up the sidewalk until he turned the corner. _I wonder what's set him off this time?_ I winced as I heard him kick a stone that bounced off the side of the house with a generous amount of force. _Work, most likely. Poor Miles..._

It had been one of _those_ days and I knew that Miles was in a foul mood even before he stepped in through the door, slamming it quite pointedly behind him with a force that echoed throughout the house. I winced as I slowly turned around, his face brick red with rage, gradually coming into focus as he stalked toward me, his dark grey eyes blazing and jaw clenched.

_Oh, boy..._ I swallowed as I braced myself for the blast of anger and it wasn't long before his temper exploded.

"I cannot **BELIEVE** the nerve of those people!" he screamed, his arms waving around in a wide arc that I scrambled to get out of the way of before I was smacked in the nose, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen while he ranted and raved safely out of reach of his flailing arms.

"Yes, but-"

"If I've told them once, I've told them a million times that you do **NOT** disturb me while I'm **WORKING**!!! It's **NOT** like I have all day to talk to every Tom, Maya and Harry that calls me on the bloody phone!" He stopped his wild stomping around the kitchen and turned to face me, his face blazing with rage and indignation.

"Yes, but I'm sure that-"

I winced visibly as his angry countenance planted itself firmly in my line of vision, three inches away from my face. Even though I knew that he wasn't angry with me, I couldn't help but tremble a little. I didn't like "New York City Cab Driver Miles."

"**YOU** know better than to do that; why the hell can't the rest of them figure _that_ out?!?! I **TOLD** Ms. Kross that I didn't want to be disturbed and what does that bloody woman do?! **EVERY** damned call that came in today she put through even though I'd told her **NOT** to!"

I attempted to get a word in edgewise. "Yes, but I-"

He went right on, overriding my voice by sheer volume; I sighed and leaned back a little.

_It's going to be one of those days._ Again.

"That dumkopf woman is a pain in the tail and I'd fire her in a minute but, as I am forced to admit, she is an excellent employee... but **NOT WHEN SHE GOES AND DOES SOMETHING AS BLOODY ****STUPID AS THIS**! Do you have **ANY** idea of all the trouble _that_... that... _woman_ caused me today?!"

I shook my head. "No, but-"

"I got virtually **NOTHING** done today; **THAT'S** how much trouble that bloody woman caused me!" He took a deep breath and plowed on. "It's bad enough that I get interrupted _once_ but _four_ times?! Couldn't they just wait a few minutes until I had a chance to do some work?!"

_Oh, lord... It's one of those days again. Now where did I put my pith helmet...?_

"Yes, but I think that-"

Miles had the bit in his teeth and was off again. "And, on top of that, the bloody Chief Prosecutor decides that today is the perfect day-of all bloody days-to have a meeting to discuss "_certain issues of interest to the Prosecution_." That fathead couldn't even find his shoes in a darkened room two feet square and _he_ has the utter nerve to send _my_ paralegal, Ms. Parris, to _my_ office to let _me_ know that _he's_ on _my_ private line! Why the hell couldn't he have sent _his_ own secretary?!"

I reached out to him. "Miles, I'm sure that-"

He avoided my hand and stalked around the kitchen in ever widening circles, waving his arms around, his voice rising with every sentence and I scrambled to get out of his way as he paced, cutting me off in mid-sentence.

"Damn the lot of them to hell!" he snarled, his hands clenching into fists. "Damn the whole bloody Prosecutor's Office and damn all the bloody bunch of those damned secretaries!" He continued to rage on in this vein for some time, using Dante's "The Divine Comedy" as a rather graphic illustration of just _where_ in the nine circles of Hell he wanted to put all of those who had irritated him beyond reason today noting, with interest, that he placed secretaries in the ninth circle which were reserved for those who were guilty of some betrayal or other.

_Rather an odd place to put them_, I mused as Miles stabbed the air with his finger, expostulating a point. _Then again, he put the Chief Prosecutor in the eighth, in the fifth stone ditch filled with boiling pitch in it which, if I remember correctly, is where corrupt politicians go. Now, the Chief Prosecutor may be a fathead-and, from what Miles has told me, he certainly sounds like it-I'm pretty sure that he isn't corrupt._

While I didn't agree with Miles in principle, I couldn't really blame him in concept. It was clear to me that he was extremely irritated over the numerous interruptions during the day and, as I listened to _another_ graphic illustration of exactly _what_ he wanted to do to the Chief Prosecutor, I couldn't help but feel glad that I wasn't included in _that_ particular rant.

_I don't even think it's humanly possible to be turned inside out and twisted like a pretzel..._

I waited for some time in silence while he yelled and screamed, stomping around the kitchen and giving one of the lower cabinets a swift kick in passing as he passed by and I winced as I heard a loud crashing noise from deep within. Once he wound down long enough to take a breath, I tried again.

"Miles, I'm sure that he didn't mean any-"

"He knows damned well that my private line is simply that: **PRIVATE**!!" I nodded sympathetically while dodging another arm wave. "Which means that means if _he_ wants to talk to _me_, _he_ should bloody well come down to _my_ office and talk to me _there_. But, no... he **HAS** to call me on my private line and then he sends someone else to tell me that he's on my private line!!"

I tried to mollify him. "Yes, Miles, I agree that he was being a thickheaded idiot but I'm sure that he meant no ha--"

I had the feeling that I should have kept my thoughts to myself and this was confirmed when he whirled around to face me without giving me a chance to finish the sentence first, his eyes blazing with rage and I took a few steps back away from him, swallowing hard as I did so. I'd never seen him this upset before and it scared me since I had no idea what it was that had set him off but it had to have been something serious to have him react like this!

"You're... defending him?!" he all but screeched which sent Pess, Miles' Fox Terrier/Pomeranian/Chihuaha cross dog, who had bounded happily into the room to greet his master, streaking out of the kitchen and diving under the couch in the living room.

I really couldn't blame the little guy; truth be known, I wished I could have joined him under the couch! He advanced toward me, his face brick-red with anger, his hands knotted into fists. I lifted my hands to ward him off as I quickly backed away from him, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I had underestimated just how angry he was and now I'd wished fervently that I'd just kept my mouth shut.

I didn't like the Chief Prosecutor any more than Miles did but I was fairly certain that he hadn't contacted Miles on his private line out of spite-not thinking, perhaps, but not with malicious forethought-and I was trying to point this out to him; little did I think-and perhaps I should have thought a little more before I said anything-that Miles would react the way he did, all but accusing me of betrayal.

I was stunned. I couldn't believe the cruel words that were coming out of Miles' mouth and, the more I tried to explain, the angrier and more vocal he became until I finally gave up trying to say anything at all and stared at him mutely.

He looked hurt. "How could... _you_... defend him?!" he raged, his grey eyes burning with a combination of hurt and rage. "How could _you_... of **ALL** people... defend _him_?!"

"I'm _not_ defending him," I insisted, stepping a little closer to him once he'd stopped advancing on me, "I'm simply trying to get you to look at this situation logically instead of emotionally! You've had a bad day, Miles, and its coloring everything you see!" I was trying to get through to him as gently as I possibly could but he was making it all but impossible to do so by being so blasted stubborn.

_There are times when this wouldn't be such a bad thing_, I thought morosely, _but this is definitely_ **NOT** _one of those times!_

He glared at me and I swore that the temperature in the kitchen dropped thirty degrees; there was a definite chill in the air and I shivered slightly, my eyes never once leaving his face. He took a couple of steps toward me and then stopped, his hands clenching into fists; I wondered what was going through his mind as he stood there, his body trembling with suppressed rage.

"Thanks ever so much, Wright," he hissed through clenched teeth, pivoting and stalking toward the arch that stood in the area between the kitchen and the living room while I stood in stunned silence, "now I know where to go when I want someone to kick me when I'm down!"

_What?! Wait a minute! I didn't do that!_

"But, Miles, I-"

He paused as he reached the arch and threw this parting shot over his shoulder, his narrowed grey eyes reflecting the hurt and betrayal he felt. "Oh and Wright? Don't bother with dinner tonight; I don't have any appetite for betrayers... it tends to give me indigestion."

_Betrayer?! What... how..?! Miles..._

_That_ parting shot really hurt and I could feel my face fall as I stared at him. My mind was whirling, trying to find something-anything!-to say that would convince him that I was in his corner in this matter but he had slammed out of the room before I had a chance to even open my mouth, the loud echo of the door reverberating within my aching heart.

I practically fell into the chair that was by the door, my hands lying limply in my lap, my eyes wide and shocked. How could this have gone so wrong so quickly? I had been having a good day up until now and I cursed myself for being such a fool and completely misreading Miles' mood; it was clear that he really had had a bad day and I had dropped the ball pretty badly in that respect... with the incindiary result.

My head dropped into my hands, my elbows resting on my knees, my mind a chaotic whirl of unhappiness. I didn't know _exactly_ what it was that I'd said-or maybe it might not have been what I said but what he _thought_ I'd said--that had set him off so badly but I wished that I'd just kept my stupid mouth shut in the first place and then this wouldn't have happened.

I felt horrible over the whole mess and I could feel tears pricking at my eyes and, although I did try to keep them from falling, a solitary tear slowly rolled down my cheeks, quickly followed by two more until they were streaming down my face like rain, my heart breaking inside me. I cried bitter tears for some time, my head lying on top of my crossed arms on top of the table, my shoulders shaking. I wished that I could take back what I said that had made him so angry-I wished I knew what that was!-but it was too late now and I had to think of a way to repair the damage I had unwittingly inflicted.

_Serves me right_, I thought sadly, sniffling and digging into my jeans pocket to look for a handkerchief and pushing the chair away from the table, _Wright, when will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?!_ I blew my nose, the loud honking noise echoing in the silent kitchen which, at this present time, had all the comfort and cheerfulness of a crypt.

The self-castigation continued. _God, I am such an idiot! I_ knew _that he'd had a bad day-I could see it on his face when he came into the house-and, yet I still manage somehow to upset him! It's like I have an unerring ability to make a bad situation ten times worse than it already is..._ I sniffled, closing my eyes and took a deep breath as one arm slipped off of the table to hang limply by my side. _If I didn't have bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all. Sounds kind of trite on the face of it but its definitely __true in my case._

I sat in silence for quite some time until I was roused from my cellar of self-pity by a cold, wet nose; when I looked down with some surprise, I could see Pess standing there, his paws on my leg, his sorrowful, liquid brown eyes looking intently into my own.

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch as I reached down and patted his head; he seemed as upset as I was over Miles' temper tantrum and I could well sympathize with him on that score since I had also been on the receiving end of his tart tongue. Miles never usually exploded like that since, if he was ever in a foul mood, he usually left the room until he either cooled off or resolved whatever was bothering him and both myself and Pess would wait patiently for his return. I sighed as I scratched him behind the ears and he responded by woofing happily, his entire body shaking in canine delight. I couldn't help but laugh as I watched him race around in mad circles chasing his tail, woofing and barking happily, leaping about the kitchen. As I watched, I could feel the my dreary mood slipping away and I felt much better than I had for the last three hours.

I watched Pess perform for some time, enjoying his ever increasing repertoire of tricks... until I happened to glance at the table and saw the now cold meal I had set out on the table three hours earlier which brought my mood crashing down once again. Pess immediately sensed that something was wrong and he bounded over to my side, looking up at me and whining plaintively, his paw resting on my leg.

Sighing, I reached down and picked up the small dog, cuddling him against my chest, my chin resting on the top of his head. Pess wagged his tail as he snuggled close to me, his frenetic heartbeat giving me some measure of solace as we sat together long into the night and I wondered just _how_ and _what _would be the best way to comfort the one man that I loved more than any other.

_This has definitely been a very, _very _bad day... _


	3. Phoenix & Miles: Redux

**[SLIGHT SPOILERS FROM Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney, Case 4: Turnabout Goodbyes and Case 2: Turnabout Sisters.]  
**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_A/N:I do not own Pesu, Phoenix Wright or Miles Edgeworth; CAPCOM does. The plot, however, is mine. :^)_

_Phoenix and Miles are both struggling with their own fears and each considers the path that both they, and the previous night, took. Will they be able to talk things out or is this the end of the line?  
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_Redux: adjective. Brought back; returned. [taken from dictionary(dot)com]_

The second to last chapter of this story! The end is almost in sight--one more chapter to go and the story is complete! This story will be the first of my eight serial fics to be completely finished! *Dances happily* *Goes back to slogging* =^D

Anyway, we've all had days like this: we have a bad day, we come home and chew out our loved ones and, once we calm down, we feel very badly about the whole thing. Thankfully, our loved ones are very forgiving and, once we've made amends, life goes on as it had before. :) Phoenix and Miles are at that point now although their problem goes a _little_ bit deeper than what's on the surface: Miles, being the broken individual he is, is upset and afraid that Phoenix will leave now that he reacted like a madman earlier the previous evening and Phoenix, on the other hand, blames himself for the whole mess but also fears that Miles will leave him since he feels he's failed Miles. [When someone is upset, they're not thinking clearly and let their fears and insecurities run wild; once they calm down, they usually realize that what they feared might happen_ wasn't_ a reflection on the a_ctual _situation but a mirror of their own fears.] I've tried to show the transition from being afraid to finally gathering up the courage to face each other and talk things out which is why I've written it the way I have; with both of their P.O.V.'s in first person, I did up each one throughout the next two hours as they each come to terms with their_ very_ similar fears in their own way. [Kudos to my husband for the suggestion!]

I do hope that you all will enjoy this next to last chapter and, as always, comments and suggestions are welcomed and appreciated! :)

_Thank you, as always, to my readers who frequently read-and even re-read-my stories and those who have commented, _ read, reviewed, favourited/story alerted my stories and thanks also to those who have author alerted/favourite authored, as well! I appreciate it very much! I am glad that you are enjoying my stories and I hope that you will continue to enjoy them in the future! :)

**Thank you **to my beta, Midnight-hunter, for all your comments and insights! I really appreciate it! :)

**Extra Special thanks **to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his encouragement, love, concern and for reigniting the fire within me to write! Love you, honey, and thanks!

Rated T, humour/romance, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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**Phoenix**

_3 A.M.  
Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth's Residence  
Kitchen_

It was well into the early morning when I at last stirred, stretching out my cramped legs, a grimace on my face as I woke Pess who was dozing lightly in my arms. I struggled to handle the frenzied doggy kisses that he showered on me, spluttering as I tried to hold the wriggling dog and wipe the doggy drool from my face at the same time. I couldn't help but smile at his antics which sent him into a new frenzy of doggy affection; I hugged him close as he wriggled with pure, unadulterated canine happiness which never failed to amuse me. I laughed and, after hugging him close once more, I put him down on the floor and let him race around in happy circles, woofing happily as he did so.

I sat and watched him for some time, thinking that it was a good thing that we didn't have anyone living next door to us (I was sure that the police would have been paying us a visit for complaints from the neighbors for disturbing the peace) until, his initial energy all but spent, he trotted over to me, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth in a loopy, canine grin.

He nuzzled my hand, waiting for the expected pet which I was more than happy to oblige, shaking my head in amusement as I reached down and scratched him behind the ears an action that sent him into canine heaven, his right leg twitching with bliss. It was amazing how the simplest thing-in this case, a simple scratch behind the ears-could send Pess into rapture and I wished that Miles could have been as easy to please as that. Thinking of him, my heart ached and my face fell, shame, guilt and unhappiness all twisting together like poisonous snakes in the pit of my stomach.

I sighed as I sat back in the chair, my eyes falling on the cold, congealed mess that had been our supper a few hours before, wondering anew at _how_ things could have gone so wrong so quickly as they had last night. The force of Miles' fury had been the thing that _really_ surprised me and caught me off-guard. I _knew_ that he was in a bad mood, anyone could see that, but the strength and the depth of it was what had thrown me. Had I realized then, as I did now, just _how_ bad of a mood he was in in, I would have kept my mouth shut and not said a word.

_I wish I had_, I thought glumly, forcing a smile onto my face and patting Pess reassuringly on the head when he padded over to me, his head tilted slightly to the right, a low whine emerging from his throat, _then none of this would have ever happened._ I crooned soft words while I patted him, trying to calm him as much as I could. He didn't look convinced but he eventually trotted across the room and lay down in the corner, his liquid brown eyes never once leaving mine for some time before he fell asleep, his head lying on top of his crossed paws.

I sighed again as I leaned back against the chair, crossing my arms over my chest and closing my eyes, thinking hard. _What can I do to make up for the mess I've created? Miles is quite angry with me and I really can't find it in my heart to blame him for that... I really made a muddle of things by my stumbling stupidity!_

I clenched my teeth. _When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?! Whether or not Miles was in the wrong, I should have let him say his piece and waited for him to calm down before talking to him... I wish I'd never said anything...!_

_That_ was the problem at hand as it stood at this present moment and I had no idea what I could do as a solution. I doubted that he wanted to see my face right now-I couldn't blame him for that, not in the slightest-so talking to him was out of the question, at least for now.

He was probably still angry so trying to have a conversation with him at this point really wasn't an option right now until he calmed down; I well remembered the incendiary response when I had tried to reason with him during his rant after he came home and I didn't want to have another explosion on the heels of the first since that had been quite enough for one evening.  
_  
You have a good idea of the problem but what of the solution? You can't talk to him right now without him ripping your head off so that, obviously, isn't a realistic option. _I sighed unhappily, my arms uncrossing, burying my face in my hands, tears welling in my eyes._ Why does love have to be so damn complicated?!_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Miles**

_3 A.M.  
Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth's Residence  
Library_

When I at last looked up at the clock, I was surprised to see what time it was: 3 A.M. I looked out of the library window at the pitch-black darkness outside; I could see small droplets of moisture beading on the outside of the window in the soft candle lit room.

I hadn't realized that I had been in here for so long; it came as quite a shock that I had been in here for over eight hours alternately screaming, fuming and fretting. I sighed, raising my hand to rub my aching eyes tiredly and I was surprised to find that my cheeks were wet; I had no idea that I had been crying and that disturbed me since it meant that my emotions had raged far beyond my ability to control them.

_What was it that upset me so much?_ I thought despondently, cupping the side of my face in my hand and lying my elbow on the chair arm as I began to go over the events of the previous evening and cringed in shame almost instantly when I recalled my appalling behavior, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. _I know that I had a really bad day but that didn't give me the right to go off on him like that and, truth be told, he didn't deserve it, either._

I closed my eyes, swallowing hard as I leaned back in my chair, my head resting lightly against the leather back. _I know he didn't mean it the way it sounded but, damn it! He knew I was in a bad mood; I wish he'd have just kept his mouth shut until after I calmed down enough to think clearly!_

I could feel my anger rising once again and I struggled to tamp it down, trying to inflict reason on my slowly rising emotions that threatened to burst out of control once more. I knew that Phoenix wasn't to blame for my temper tantrum; I was. I had let my bad day, and the Chief Prosecutor, color everything and had lashed out violently at the one person who loved me more than anyone else in the world and whom I loved just as much.

Thinking back on the events that had occurred after I arrived home now that I had calmed down and could think clearly, I couldn't believe what a fool I had been and deeply regretted the ugly words I had thrown at him in anger. Earlier on when I had first stormed into the library, I had tried to dismiss my own responsibility in the previous evening's disaster and pin the blame squarely on Phoenix but, as the hours marched on, I couldn't honestly dismiss the fact that I was also in the wrong and more so than he... a fact that became glaringly apparent half an hour ago. I was more to blame for this fiasco than anyone else but knowing that didn't make me feel any better and it unleashed a new set of anxieties within me; how could I ever face him again after what I'd done?

_I don't think he even wants to see me now_, I thought with despair, feeling tears beginning to well up in my eyes and I lifted a shaking finger to impatiently wipe them away. _Not that I can really blame him for that after what I said to him and accused him of._ I clenched my left hand into a fist, pressing it hard against my eyes, my lips trembling with suppressed emotion, sorrowful mewling sounds coming from between my tightly compressed lips as I remembered _exactly_ what I had spat at him in a blind rage and wishing with all of my heart that I could take it back, knowing full well I couldn't.

I dug around in my jacket pocket for my handkerchief, pulling it out and pressed it shakily against my eyes, my lips trembling. _What does he think of me now? I wouldn't blame him if he said to me,_ "Miles, I'm leaving" _and left for good._

My heart broke within me at the thought but I couldn't dismiss the _very_ real possibility.  
_  
It would serve me right if he did walk out... but I don't want to lose him! Oh, God... what am I going to do?!_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Phoenix**

_4 A.M._

I sighed and leaned hard against the sink, my arms immersed up to the elbows in the hot, soapy water. I was in the process of doing the dishes from what was left of last night's supper and, after making sure that it was clean, I set it in the dish rack located in the right hand side of the sink. My arms were red and steaming slightly and it was only then that I realized just how hot the water had been. I snuffled as I did so, trying hard to keep the tears I could feel welling up in my eyes from falling but I couldn't have stopped it even if I had tried and I let them fall down my cheeks like rain, sorrowful cries rending the silence of the early morning.

After I had gotten myself under some kind of control a few minutes later, I stopped for a moment, listening hard in the silence. I didn't hear any sound coming from the kitchen save for my sorrowful exclamations nor was there the sound of pattering of paws on the linoleum that would have indicated that Pess was still in the room; I figured that, at some point, he must have retired for the evening to his dog bed that was nestled in our bedroom. Although I missed the comfort that his presence had afforded me throughout that long evening, I couldn't blame the little fellow since he'd had a bad day, himself, and I was sure that he was feeling a little down over the fight his beloved master and I had had earlier last night.

_Poor mite_, I thought, sniffling some more as I turned and leaned against the sink once more, _he's not having an easy time of it today, either._

I felt awful about the whole mess and I still couldn't think of anything I could do to make it up to Miles; simply apologizing wouldn't be enough to make up for the monumental mess I had created out of last evening.

I couldn't sleep although I did try so, after some thought, I decided to clean up the kitchen and dining room. I reasoned that, since I was already up anyway and sleep wasn't likely to happen anytime in the near future, that doing something useful wouldn't hurt so, with a heavy heart, I gathered up the few remaining dishes and glassware that remained on the table, scraping the congealed messes that were on each dish directly into the trash can and carefully piling them on the left side of the sink. Tears fell as I washed each dish, my heart aching and my throat sore from crying, trying to control my shaking hands so that I didn't drop any of the delicate china after I was finished washing them.

I had no idea what I could do to make things right and it seemed like a hopeless venture, at best, when he probably didn't want to see me or even talk to me right now; I knew how he could get when he was in one of his moods and I had learned to steer clear of him until he calmed down.

_I wish that I had used better judgment earlier-hindsight is always 20/20, as they say-and then we wouldn't be in this predicament._ I had been a complete failure in the comfort department.

After the last dish had been washed and put in the rack, I leaned against the sink a third time, my elbows lying on the rim of the sink, my hands covering my face as I cried bitter tears.

_How will this end?_

I _didn't_ know... and _that_ was what scared me the most.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**  
Miles**

_4 A.M._

I found, as the night wore on, that I couldn't stop thinking about Phoenix and how miserable I felt. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that, whatever the cause of the original fight had been-which, I was ashamed to admit, was all due to my infantile temper tantrum-it wasn't worth the horrible feelings I was currently tangling with. I felt worse than I had ever felt in my life; I knew I was wrong but my pride refused to let me admit it, remorse and unhappiness adding to the boiling cauldron of emotions roiling inside me like a pit of poisonous vipers.

I rubbed my red-rimmed eyes tiredly, my fingers shaking slightly as I did so, taking a deep breath and sighing loudly. I felt like a fool for losing my temper like I did, regardless of the reason and whether or not it had been justified at the time. I had to conclude, in the light of cold logic, that it was neither appropriate nor deserved... and I was wrong of far more than just being temperamental.

_He didn't deserve that... he didn't deserve_ any _of it. I was wrong; I was just too proud to admit it. But where has that pride gotten me now?_ I bit my lip. _I'm alone in the library, tearing out my insides with remorse and guilt is eating away at me like acid._

No matter how I had tried to sugar coat the truth-and believe me, I did try while still in the throes of anger-it was becoming increasingly apparent to me that I was in the wrong and that Phoenix hadn't done anything to deserve what I gave him... or said to him.

My lip trembled as I tried to fight back the tears I could feel welling up in my eyes. _Was it worth it? Not in the slightest... and I wish that I hadn't said anything to him until I calmed down. It wasn't his fault that the Chief Prosecutor was acting like a bloody idiot so why should I have screamed at him when it was that pompous fathead I wanted a few pieces of!_

I clenched my hand into a fist and pressed it hard against my eyes, biting down hard on my lip to keep the cry I could feel building within me from escaping; despite my best efforts, sorrowful mewls emerged from my tightly compressed lips. _Better yet, I should have just left the room for awhile until I cooled down enough to think reasonably instead of acting like a madman!_

My throat ached and I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat so large that it threatened to choke me. After all we had been through together, one might think that I would trust him by now but, as it was all too clear to me, I _didn't_... and that made me feel even worse.

_And I deserve every bit of unhappiness and pain that comes to me..._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Phoenix**

_5 A.M._

_This is ridiculous_, I thought with some irritation, my mouth twisting petulantly, _I should just go and talk to him and clear the air. Sitting here brooding isn't going to help and I've wasted enough time doing that already._ I took a deep breath. _It's very clear to me what it is I need to do: I need to talk to him and get this cleared up!_

I was sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, my face cupped in my left hand while the fingers of my right hand drummed on the black marbled tabletop. I'd long since given up trying to sleep-it wasn't going to happen anyway with the unresolved issue between Miles and myself still festering-so I made a pot of coffee and sat down at the table once again, sighing deeply as I did so.

I found myself wondering again just _why_ love was so complicated... and what exactly it was that made it so. I knew that relationships took work and a lot of it but there were still some grey areas that I was discovering every now and then that I _wasn't_ expecting.

We'd been together for some time and there were still times when Miles could surprise me... not that this was necessarily a bad thing. Truth be told, I enjoyed these little surprises every now and again since they were a reminder to me that Miles still had some secrets left to reveal and that he would when he felt the time was right to do so. The courage he was showing was immense and I wondered again why I, having _never_ had to endure what Miles did, was so afraid. What did I have to be afraid of?

I turned my head to look out the window and saw the rosy color of the dawn sky which meant that the sun was going to come up in a little while; I was thrilled since I enjoyed watching the sun rise although I found myself wishing that Miles were here to watch it with me which, once again, brought the whole sorry mess of the previous evening back into stark focus.

Why didn't I go and talk to him, straighten things out between us and heal the festering wound? The plain simple truth was that I was afraid: afraid that he wouldn't want me anymore, that he was sick of me and wanted to leave. _That's_ why I sat here chewing myself up over and over instead of going to the library to work things out with Miles-I was afraid.

The more I thought about it, the more my fear grew and the less inclined I was to stand up and go to him; every possible way this could blow up in my face was right there in the forefront of my mind. My hands were shaking as I picked up my mug and took a large swallow of the hot, fragrant brew, trying to get myself under some kind of conscious control.

What would Miles have thought of me if he knew the frightening thoughts that crowded inside my head? How would he react if he knew that I was afraid that he was going to leave? That I was afraid that I'd pushed him far beyond what he would be willing to tolerate? How could I tell him that I felt guilty over the whole stupid mess even if it hadn't been all my fault, that I still felt responsible for his flight into the library? Or that I was afraid that this was the end of the line for us and that we would go our separate ways after he came out of his seclusion?

How would he react if I told him that I was afraid that we couldn't work out whatever the festering sore spot was between us that was causing us both pain? Or that I feared the pain of his past was too much for him to overcome and all I was to him was a reminder of that pain, remembering his three year flight from me and his life after the revelations of DL-6? How could I tell him that I had nightmares at times where he would leave me and disappear into the mist like a will-o-the-wisp, as if he'd never been there? Or that I sometimes woke late in the night, my heart hammering in my chest, my body breaking out into a cold sweat, overwhelmed with a terror I could neither understand or explain?

What bothered me most of all was just exactly how I could even begin to try and explain all of these things when I really didn't know how or even what the real catalyst behind these nightmares and night terrors was? How could he even begin to understand just how deep the fear went or even grasp at just how afraid I really was? Did I really want to try and explain my feelings when I wasn't even sure of what they were and, as last night had so blatantly proved, screw it up so badly that I couldn't extricate myself from the tangled wreckage and have the slamming door echo in my empty heart when he walked out of my life forever?

That scared me the most since the last thing I wanted was a renewed flight and one in which I would never see him again. I wanted to avoid that at all costs but I didn't know how to break the ice and tell him all my fears without looking like the world's biggest fool. Thinking back ad infinitum on last night's disaster, which I had done many times during the course of the night, I couldn't forget how badly I had botched the whole thing and the resulting explosion. Still, there was one flicker of hope, however small: Miles hadn't come storming out here to tell me to get out of his life. He knew where I was and, had he wanted to leave, he would certainly have done so by now and not waited this long.

I sat up straighter in my chair, my blue eyes widening as the realization swept over me that Miles was still ensconced in the library and not out here telling me off or throwing me, and all of my belongings, out of the house. The fact that he hadn't done either of those things was enough to give me a much needed boost of confidence that maybe, just maybe, things weren't so black after all and that there was still a chance that we could work out things between us.

Feeling happier by one hope, I hurriedly got up out of my chair and headed for the library, my heart pounding expectantly in my chest as I ran down the hallway leading to the library...

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Miles**

_5 A.M._

_You can't sit here all day, Miles,_ I chastised myself for what seemed to be the millionth time in the past five minutes, my hand cupped rebelliously under my chin, _at_ some _point you're going to have to face him, no matter how much you don't want to._ I shivered slightly. _Or are afraid to since that is what is_ really _bothering me: I'm afraid that Phoenix won't want me anymore after this childish display of temper and that he'll want me out of his life._

I shifted slightly so I could sit more comfortably in the leather chair, sighing loudly. I'd never been the one, in times past, to analyze what I was feeling since my mentor would have considered that a sign of weakness. My mouth twisted in distaste as the image of that... **man**... came back into my mind, his eyes narrowed with glee, his mouth curving into a sadistic, seductive smile. I shuddered and banished the image from my mind as quickly as I could, feeling my body breaking into a cold sweat.

_What is it about that..._ **man** ... _that never fails to evoke that reaction?_ I wondered, biting my lip as I turned in the chair, my grey eyes troubled. Try as I might, I couldn't always shake the memories of my now deceased psychotic mentor and they seemed to come in when I was feeling low, depressed, when dwelling on the mistakes I'd made in the long dead past or when I'd had a bad day, much like the one I had the other day.

I shook my head violently to rid myself of the image of that detestable creature who had tried to destroy the me when he could no longer control me; he preferred to destroy the man rather than to own that the man had grown up and could function on his own with his own ideas, values and beliefs that stood in marked contrast to his.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the memories I had been trying to hide for fifteen years coming back into my mind, my hand tightening on the arm of the chair until my knuckles turned white. A normal mentor would have been happy that his protege was ready to spread his wings and leave the nest but von Karma wasn't at all normal, as I would soon discover. I had no idea, at that point in time, of the depths of his depravity until the DL-6 case had come to a conclusion; I shuddered when I thought of just _how_ close I'd come to the edge of the abyss... and _how_ determined von Karma had been to push me over.

In von Karma's twisted mind, the son of the man who had besmirched his precious perfect record would be made to pay the penalty: von Karma would kill the beloved father and pin the blame on the son when the time was ripe; in the meantime, he would take the boy and try to make him into the perfect von Karma foil and mould him according to his own twisted, sick image.

He had almost succeeded-_almost_-in moulding me according to his malignant and twisted idea of perfection but, at the last moment, I had escaped by the love and care of Phoenix Wright, a childhood friend I hadn't seen since I was nine years old and the thought of whom brought the ghost of a smile to my lips.

After my father died in 2001, I'd gone to live with von Karma and Franziska in Germany and had lost contact with Phoenix until we faced each other in court where I was defending Ms. Maya Fey, sister of Ms. Mia Fey who, as it came out later in court, had been murdered by Redd White in order to silence her and take a statue of The Thinker that she had put some files into.

But this he could not abide... and he had very nearly succeeded in destroying me in DL-6 and, if it hadn't been for the steadfast love and conviction of Phoenix of my innocence, I would have been sent to the gallows, a fate that that miserable bastard would have reveled in, knowing him. It would have been the crowning achievement of his career, I had no doubt, and would have completed his revenge on the man who had humiliated him publicly by sending the son he had loved so tenderly to hell.

I closed my eyes tightly, my hand tightening on the arm of the chair until it shook. I couldn't escape these memories, no matter how hard I tried, and it seemed like I would be von Karma's prisoner forever, locked in a gilded steel cage that I couldn't break free of; no matter how many times I flung myself against the bars of my prison trying desperately to escape, I was still locked firmly within, battering my wings senselessly, violently and fruitlessly against them.

_No!_ I shook my head, throwing myself out of the chair and careening across the room, my heart pounding triple time in my chest, my hands beginning to shake violently, _I'm... free of him and his malevolent influence! Phoenix saved me from all that! He saved me! I'm not a prisoner! I'm not! I'm... _**not**_..._!

My breath was coming in ragged pants, my eyes wild and unseeing as I threw back my head and screamed, a long, loud cry of despair that seemed to echo throughout the empty library. I fell to my knees, my hands gripping handfuls of hair and pulling on them as hard as I could.

_Phoenix!_

The sound of pounding feet in a run down the hallway brought me briefly out of my reverie but it wasn't long before I sank back down into the black depths of despair once again, painful, sorrowful moans torn from my throat. It seemed to me that I was locked in a never-ending nightmare and that the escape I was trying so desperately to accomplish would never come.

_I'm here all alone... all alone... all... alone...! No! I can't bear... the thought...!  
_

The sharp bang of the library door flying open startled me momentarily and I fought against the warm arms that wrapped themselves around me; for one terrifying moment, I was sure that von Karma had emerged from Hell to drag me down with him and I struggled with all of my might to break free... until I heard Phoenix's warm voice whispering in my ear. My struggles then ceased, sinking gratefully into Phoenix's warm embrace.

"It's all right, Miles," I heard him say, his soft, warm voice whispering tenderly in my ear as his arms tightened protectively around me. "I'm here...you're safe, I promise. I'm always here for you, Miles..." I felt his warm lips press kisses against my temple, running down the length of my face to my neck and back up again; I swallowed hard past the large lump in my throat and leaned harder against him. "I love you, Miles... I love you..."

_He... came for... me... He knew that I was in trouble and he came here to... find me... He does love me! He DOES!_

I slumped down into his arms and, with my head cradled on his shoulder, I began to cry.

"Thank God," I whispered into his neck once my sobs had subsided enough that I could speak once again and I felt him start in surprise at my words; tears poured down my face but my spirit soared, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest. "Thank God! Thank God! Thank God! Thank God! Thank God!" I knew I was babbling but I didn't care; relief poured over me like a tidal wave and I was lost in the moment, clinging to Phoenix like a drowning man clutching a life preserver.

I buried my face back in his shoulder and took the comfort that my beloved provided, holding him tightly against me until I could see the sun rise in the east, the soft rays of the early dawn slowly sliding over our bodies as we knelt there on the hardwood floor, clasped in each other's arms...


	4. Phoenix: So What If You're Not Perfect?

_A/N: I don't own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Gregory Edgeworth or Manfred von Karma; CAPCOM does. The plot, however, is mine. :^)  
XXXXXXXXXXXX_

_Events have come to a head and Phoenix races to Miles' side, all the pain he caused him washed away to be replaced by genuine worry and concern. Can they iron things out? Phoenix is determined to try for he loves Miles...  
XXXXXXXXXXXX_

The final chapter! I hope that you have enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! :^) Happy endings** ROCK**! :D

*The Stygian-in Stygian blackness-refers to the river Styx, in Greek mythology, by which the gods and goddesses swore oaths. In some versions Achilles' mother, the goddess Thetis, is said to have held her son by his ankle and dipped him in the river Styx, thereby making him immortal... _except_ his heel, where she held him. The boat was piloted by Charon, the boatman who ferried the souls of the dead across the river to the Underworld.*

**Thanks** to all of my readers for your reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting! I really appreciate it very much and I hope that you will continue to enjoy my stories!

**Thank you** to Midnight-hunter, my beta, for her enthusiastic support and critiquing! :) I appreciate it a bunch! :)

**Extra Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for his unfailing love, support, nagging (when necessary), for reigniting the desire to write within me and for helping me to stay grounded during the writing process so I don't end up tearing my hair out. Love you, babe!

I hope you enjoy it and, as always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed! :)

Rated T, Humor/Romance, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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_Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth Residence_  
_Library  
6 A.M._

I held Miles close to me, kneeling on the hardwood floor in front of the mahogany grandfather clock, watery sunlight flowing over the both of us as the sun rose. I could hear him babbling "Thank God!" over and over and, while I wasn't_ quite_ sure exactly _why _he was, it _was_ a relief to me that he seemed to have gotten over his pique.

I let out the deep breath that I had been holding, relief spreading through me like a wildfire._ Thank heaven for small favors! _

I knew what Miles could be like when he lost his temper and, as last evening had so eloquently, and disastrously, proved, I was _very _glad that he wasn't angry anymore and that we could move on from here.

I held him for quite awhile, stroking his sweaty grey hair tenderly and whispering words of comfort into his ear, trying to soothe him and quell the violent shaking of his body. Miles _never_ had the shakes that bad unless he was extremely upset and I hated to see him this way. He may have been a jerk the night before but I was also to blame for what had happened and all I cared about right now was soothing and calming him, letting him know in actions, rather than in mere words, that I loved him and that I would _always _be here for him.

I knew that he was scared that events had gone too far for us to be able to repair the damage done and I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. I was scared, too, just as much as he was but I had determined that I would at least try to make things right with Miles and had headed for the library. When I had heard him moaning and crying behind the closed doors in the library, I didn't think twice. I broke into a run, racing to his side without a second thought, practically breaking down the door in the process when I burst through it and ran to him, gathering him in my arms.

When he started to struggle and tried to break free from my grasp, I admit that my heart was in my throat until I realized that he was still in the throes of his daymare; I thought that, once he fully came out of it and recognized his surroundings that he would be all right.

Thankfully and to my _great _relief, I was _not_ mistaken in my assumption and that's exactly what did happen a few minutes later; once Miles recognized the library in_ our _home, he knew immediately _who_ it was that was holding him and stopped struggling, his body going limp in my arms. I held him tightly to me, stroking his head and murmuring soft words of comfort into his ears, pressing my lips tenderly to his sweaty skin, trailing kisses in my wake.

My heart had nearly stopped when I burst in through the door to see him on his knees, his hands clapped tightly to the side of his head, his fingers digging into his hair with sorrowful keening pouring out of his mouth. All I could think of was rushing to his side to comfort him. I didn't _care_ if he'd just chewed me out some hours earlier; I didn't _care_ if he was still angry with me for my clumsiness; I didn't _care_ that he'd thrown some pretty hurtful words at me that cut me to the heart; I didn't _care_ that he was being unfair because he'd had a horribly bad day. Miles _was _in pain... and he _needed _me. _That_ was all I cared about at this moment.

I propped my chin on the top of his head, my right hand tenderly stroking his face with my fingertips while my left arm was wrapped around his shoulders and holding him close. I could feel his frantic breathing start to slow once he'd come back to himself and I felt my own fear begin to drain away, flooding me with heartfelt relief.

_I'm so glad that you're all right, Miles_, I thought, closing my eyes and swallowing hard, _I was so afraid that you'd reject me for being such a clumsy fool and, for one terrifying moment, I thought you had when you struggled briefly in my arms. _My grip tightened on him, planting a solid kiss in the middle of his head, my right hand cupping the side of his face tenderly as if he were a fragile glass ornament. _I __wonder if von Karma was on his mind again; it usually happens whenever he's had a bad day is simply under stress, it doesn't matter from where. _I could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes but I blinked them away impatiently. I could shed tears later; Miles needed me _now _and that was, by far, much _more _important to me_. My poor love... what I _wouldn't _do to take this burden from you! I wish I could!_

I don't know how long we knelt there on the hardwood floor; I could feel Miles move his head and I assumed that he'd gotten his eye level above the slope of my shoulder since his face was buried in my neck.

"What a beautiful sunrise," I heard him murmur and, once I had lifted my head and looked up at the watery rays of the early morning sunshine filtering through the window glass, I had to agree.

"Yes," I said softly, lifting my eyes to look out the window and then back down at him as he clung to me, "it is." I gently stroked the back of his head with my fingertips and closed my eyes once again, breathing in his scent, my lips curving upward in a smile as I did so.

After some moments of silence, Miles spoke, his voice thick with tears and regret.

"I'm... sorry."

"Hmmm?"

"I'm... I'm... sorry, Phoenix."

My eyebrow raised as I sat back and gently put him from me and looked at him, a confused expression on my face.

"For what?" I asked, puzzled. He had such a sad look on his face that my heart ached and I couldn't help but wonder _what_ was going through his head as he said it.

"For … _everything_..." he said at last in a sorrowful voice, looking down at the floor.

_What?!_

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Miles-" I began but he cut me off, shaking his head sorrowfully, taking deep hitching breaths. I could feel his body trembling and I wondered what on earth was going through his head although, when I tried to ask, he kept cutting me off. After a few minutes of this, I was beginning to get annoyed, not to mention scared.

"Miles!" I snapped, my annoyance and fear coming through my voice while he stared at me, his white, drawn face shocked. His mouth worked but no sound emerged as I looked back at him. "Stop it! Just... _stop it!_"

I put my hands on his shoulders and looked right into his eyes. I'd had enough of this nonsense and I was determined to get to the bottom of _what_ was bothering him and _why_ he kept on interrupting me. I could see the sick fear that was plastered all over his face and, once again, it cut me to the heart. _What _on earth was going through his head as he sat there looking at me, his eyes wide with fear, his face a sickly, pasty white color and trembling like a leaf?

His lips trembled and he clutched me tightly to him; I could feel his body shaking violently with the depth of his anguished feelings and I held him tightly to me, wishing that I could take this burden away from him or at least have him open up to me about what was bothering him since obviously something was.

"Miles..." I whispered gently, not wanting to alarm him by raising my voice since he looked like he was ready to bolt at any moment; I could feel his muscles rippling underneath my hands and I knew that, if he succeeded in his endeavor to escape, he'd run and that was the _last _thing I wanted. He'd run from me three years before and I couldn't forget the hurt, the pain and the anguish I suffered for the next three years, believing him to be dead. I hadn't forgotten what I had felt then and I refused to let him run for a second time.

I set my jaw stubbornly as I held him, my grip like iron on him. He wouldn't be going anywhere without me and I wouldn't let him go. I knew that we _could _work things out; all we had to do was face the problem head on and work it through together. Neither of us would be alone.

_You and me, Miles,_ I thought, closing my eyes once more and breathing in his dizzying scent, _it's just you and me against the world... the way it should be. I love you and I know that you love me; together, we can face anything that comes our way and neither of us has to be alone to wrestle with his demons. _

I gently put him from me, my hands like iron on his shoulders as I looked squarely at him. He looked so haunted that my heart ached for him and I wondered anew exactly _what _it was that was bothering him since I had a feeling that it was more than I had first thought. His garbled, strangled words had told me at least some of what I needed to know but I wanted him to tell me the rest himself.

_You'll only be free if you tell me what's troubling you, Miles. I _want _to help you but I can't help you if you don't open up to me. I _want _more than anything to help shoulder your burdens because that is what people who are in love do; they're there for each other, no matter what. Let me help you and I'll prove to you that you can trust me, that you can trust what we have and that the love we share is real!_

I sighed as I looked into those beautiful grey eyes swimming with unshed tears, my fingers tightening on his shoulders. My mouth trembled but I didn't know what to say to comfort him since my mind had gone utterly blank when faced with the terrible depths of Miles' despair; any word of comfort that I could have given him would have seemed paltry, indeed, when faced with the Stygian blackness confronting Miles.

It was the second time this morning that I felt helpless and I was tired of feeling that way. I _had_ to help him but I couldn't even begin to until he opened the gate to himself and let me inside to confront the ugliness that was the residue of his younger, formative years that still haunted him all these years later. Once again I hoped that Manfred von Karma was burning in Hell for what he did to Miles and what he had tried to do three years earlier.

I couldn't believe the coldheartedness of the man and it never failed to amaze-or sicken-me the depth to which that man would have sunk in order to hang Miles and would never have thought twice about it. He would give all he had in order to avenge himself upon Miles' late father, Gregory Edgeworth. In a single stroke, not only did he deprive Miles of his beloved father but he also set in motion a hideous plan of revenge; I could only imagine, and that, thankfully rather dimly, of what life in Germany with von Karma must have been like when he was growing up. I couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

_Damn him to the lowest hells! _My fingers tightened on Miles' shoulder once again but loosened when he let out a gasp of pain and I realized that I was squeezing him much too tightly. _Damn his perfect record and damn him! What he did wasn't worth the pain and suffering that Miles had to endure and, if he weren't already dead, I'd kill him!_

I had to calm myself; I wasn't going to be any good to Miles unless I did. I took many deep, ragged breaths, trying to control the fury I could feel welling up inside of me and, after some minutes, I managed to calm down. I looked into Miles' pinched, unhappy face with compassion, my heart aching to see him like this.

The thought came, unbidden, into my mind._ I wish I could take this all from him. I wish that I could make everything better and erase all those terrible memories but I can't... and I feel so damned helpless on the face of it._ I sighed again with a mix of frustration and anguish, scrunching my eyes tightly shut. _Miles, I wish you'd trust me a little... I _can_ help but you have to give me a chance! I_ can't_ fix _everything _but I _can_ listen and help you with your burden which I would do happily because I love you more than anyone else in the world!_

"I-" Miles began again in a choked voice but I shook my head, trying to keep the tears I could feel welling up in the corners of my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. I felt awful about the whole rotten situation and the knowledge that I had contributed to his unhappiness, even if I_ wasn't_ fully to blame for what had happened, stuck in my craw like nothing else did.

"No... you _don't_ need to say anything; you have _nothing_ to feel sorry for or apologize for. I was being as much an idiot when I unthinkingly trashed any peace of mind you may have been seeking and I am sorry for that."

Miles shook his head stubbornly.

"No, you _don't _understand," he began, his voice starting to crack with overwrought emotion as he struggled to break free of my grasp, the expression on his tear-stained face desperate and pleading, "I was wrong! I was wrong to say what I did, Phoenix, and the knowledge that I hurt you tears at me like nothing else does!" He lowered his head as his shoulders began to shake and I could see tears beginning to trickle down his face in steady streams. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean what I said..."

My fingers let his shoulder go, my hand sliding over his shoulders and down his back, gathering him in a warm embrace and drawing him closer to me, cradling his head on my shoulder. I could feel his face burying into my neck, felt the wet trails of tears on his face, felt his arms quiver like a taut harp string as they wrapped around me in return, felt his hands grab handfuls of fabric and close into fists, trembling with unhappiness and emotion.

"I know," I whispered soothingly, my hands making wide, slow circles on his back, "I know. I don't hold it against you, Miles; I know you didn't mean it and that it was only the anger, and not you, personally, talking." I closed my eyes, nuzzling the side of his head tenderly with the tip of my nose.

"I'm so sorry, Phoenix," he whispered brokenly and I wondered if he had heard me, "I'm so very,_ very _sorry..."

"I know." I was amazed at how calm I felt when I was a maelstrom of roiling turmoil on the inside. "There's no need to apologize."

He shook his head again. "No... I'm also sorry that... I'm not... _perfect_..."

_Not. Perfect._ The words crashed through my consciousness like a jackhammer and I started, my eyes flying open and staring in shock at the wall behind Miles' head, my limbs beginning to tremble and my stomach churn.

"What does_ that _matter?" I returned harshly, my voice so choked that I could barely get the words out without considerable effort. "I _don't_ care if you _aren't_ perfect, Miles; that's _never_ been something I've _ever_ sought!"

"How could you ever love someone like me?" he continued, his voice cracking with the strain of his emotional melt down. "I'm _not _perfect; how could you love me? How can you stand even being around me?" He clung to me. "After all I've done and what I may have done had you _not_ saved me, how can you still... love... _me_?"

I felt that familiar feeling of helplessness rush through me like a hurricane and, try as I might, I couldn't fight off the newest onslaught completely and it scored me with a wound that was deep and painful.

_How could I get through to him? _I thought in despair, my arms holding him so close to me it seemed as if we were one person instead of two. _How can I convince him that perfection _doesn't_ matter to me and that only Miles does?_

Von Karma's gloating face appeared in the back of my mind and I felt disgust pour more salt on already raw and painful psychic wounds, Miles trembling so violently in my embrace that I was afraid that he would try to break free and run. In whatever else he tried to do and failed, von Karma _had_ been overwhelmingly successful in messing up Miles so badly emotionally it was a wonder that he ever broke free of his malign influence at all.

_Bastard._ I set out at once to try and soothe him again, ignoring my own pain as I sought to ease his, whispering gentle words of comfort, assuring him of my love. _He's been dead for over three years and that bloody bastard is _still _living in both of our collective memories. _

I could hear the apparition muttering nonsense in my ear and I did my level best to ignore it. _I don't care what von Karma thinks, my sweet love;_ _I _don't _trust perfection and I certainly _don't_ want some mindless automaton! I pressed my head closer to his. What I do want is_ _Miles in _all _of his imperfect glory, in all of his beautiful, sweet and flawed humanity. I don't want perfection; I want him. I love _who_ he _is_, not _what _he _could _be. So who cares if he isn't perfect? Big deal! _How _can I convince him of __this?_

I could feel Miles shift slightly to the left and I squeezed my arms shut quickly, before he'd had a chance to bolt. I knew that he had been preparing to run, and the dirty look I could see him giving me out of the corner of my eye confirmed my suspicions. There was _no _way I was going to let that happen a second time. He'd run three years earlier and I'd be damned if I was going to allow that to happen again.

_Not this time, Miles, _I thought grimly, _not this time._

I heard Miles' strangled voice ask, "Why?" and I knew immediately, without having to ask, what it was that he was referring to. I could feel his fingers tighten once again and I winced a little as he grabbed skin underneath the fabric though I did my best not to let on.

"Because I love you, Miles," I said simply, pulling back a little and cupping the side of his face in my hand, my thumb tenderly stroking his tear-stained face, "and I really couldn't care less if you're _not_ perfect; I love you as you_ are_."

Miles was silent for a moment.

"How-how... could you..._ love_... me...? How...how...could..._ anyone_?!"

I kissed the top of his head tenderly, sliding down to sit against the front of the mahogany grandfather clock, pulling Miles down with me. I settled him in comfortably beside me and cradled him against my chest, my fingertips stroking the top of his head absentmindedly.

"I _don't_ trust perfection, Miles; I _never _have. " I put him gently back from me, my fingertips cupping underneath his chin and pulling them up so that his scared eyes met my blue ones, my mouth creasing into a soft smile. "I love you for_ who _you_ are_, good _and _bad, not for who you _could_ be or think you _should_ be. Your 'flaws' appeal to me; you're a human being, Miles, and sometimes humans make mistakes but they ultimately learn from them." I smiled at him, tucking a piece of gray hair over his ear. "It's _not _something to be ashamed of; _everybody _has their off days now and again. You just have to accept it, make amends when and where you can and then move on."

Miles looked at me, a stunned expression on his face.

"But-" he started to say but I cut him off ruthlessly by pressing my mouth hard against his, effectively silencing him. I could feel him shiver, his mouth trembling uncertainly underneath my own but I refused to pull away, deepening the kiss when I felt him try to pull back.

I did this for the next twenty minutes and, I must say, that I was indeed enjoying myself and Miles, though initially _not_ happy about it-he hated to be interrupted when he was trying to talk-did as well after awhile. I could feel him responding eagerly as he melted into my arms and my heart soared as he did so.

_Finally.... finally, I'm getting through to him!_

After we had parted-rather reluctantly-I could see that the expression on his face was one of quiet wonder and of understanding.

"Do you understand now _why_ I love you?" I whispered, kissing his mouth again tenderly, my thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

Miles nodded.

I smiled. "Good."

I could see the ghost of a smile form on his face as he snuggled closer to me as we settled in for the next while in each other's arms.

_You may not be a knight in shining armor, Miles, but you'll _always_ be the one I love..._

An image of Miles in grey and dented armor rose in my mind and I chuckled. Miles looked curiously up at me and I shook my head, promising to tell him about it later. He looked slightly confused but nevertheless clung to me as we sat there, watching the sun rise.


End file.
